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Kasimir

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  1. Kasimir
    The first—and biggest—difference that Sonder noticed about this new contract was that the Chief hardly seemed to be in the engine room at all. He hadn’t dared ask, but he’d heard Second talk to one of the other Fourths, and learned that the Chief was spending most of his time on the Bridge. He thought about asking why; it had been a rule, back with his previous contract. If you didn’t know what anything did, or what procedure was, you asked and kept your hands to yourself until you knew, and prepared to get chewed out. Not that Arnkell had done as much chewing out as Second, who’d assumed the role of most senior engineering officer in Chief’s constant absence. By this point, Sonder figured he’d either get used to it, or he’d wash out. He hoped it would be the former. He had been considering if he could head out for a break—it wasn’t his shift to stand watch—when a tall haggard man swept into the engine room. The effect he had was immediate: Second straightened up, even though he hadn’t been slouching in the first place. “Cap. Morning, Cap,” he said. The others echoed his greeting, following raggedly. “You’re the one in charge here?” “Yeah, Cap.” “A member of the crew was killed this morning,” Wurum Heron said, crisply. “Medical’s looking into it. I’ve patched him into the Hemalurgic systems of the ship.” Second said a word that Sonder would never have, especially with the Captain in front of him. “He can override us, then.” The Captain nodded. “Had to be done,” he said, grim. “It was murder, and I won’t have murder on my ship.” Those haunted eyes flicked to the side, taking in the other engineers in the room. Sonder pretended to busy himself with the read-outs, but when he glanced up, it was into those dead, shattered eyes. The Captain looked away first. “I need you to re-task some of your people on the Hemalurgic systems, especially the central one,” he said, to Second. “I don’t care who you pick, just pick the most competent out of the lot. If the HI goes down, so does control of our systems.” “No kidding…” Second muttered. “Yeah, I’ll get right on it.” “Good,” Wurum Heron said. He left. “Well,” Second said. He eyed the engineers still in the room. “You heard the man. Which of you here are qualified to deal with Hemalurgic systems?”
  2. Kasimir
    For the less timezone savvy, it's 6AM and I haven't slept the whole night. Not going to say anything while I'm in this state, for obvious reasons... Edit: You can keep my name burning red though I don't mind.
  3. Kasimir
  4. Kasimir
    Thales Heron #1: What The Water Said Thales Heron #2: Water Crossings Thales Heron #3: Run Deep
  5. Kasimir
    ...Did you just call me a traitor? Why, Q., I'm Kashero you're talking to. Wyrmimir's up there in the thread. Might be wise to get it clear, because I'm neither your boss, nor the guy you should be saving from death
  6. Kasimir
    ...Or for last minute drop-outs! That Bridge is starting to look awfully tempting...
  7. Kasimir
    Tsk. Too much Halloween? Seriously, guys, Halloween's over. Wake up. It's normal time again Also, while I'd be interested in the dynamics of such a team, the whole point is that I'm there as the weakest link, Maili. If they put you, they'd need to make you guys like Disco or something to keep things balanced
  8. Kasimir
    Dude, even if you don't make it, we'd still be supporting each other. This is NaNo, guys. We're all knee-deep in crem together
  9. Kasimir
    My prof emailed me the other day and told me he really likes this paper I wrote in for his class last semester. So much that he wants to help me work on it so I can submit it to a good journal and try to get published :') Happy undergraduate is happy! :')
  10. Kasimir
    I just met someone I hadn't met in, what, over fifteen years yesterday. It was kind of awkward, because I have the expressive (not emotional capacity, but the capacity to express these emotions) capacity of a teaspoon. But it was really great, and I found myself tearing up because, well, I was really close to her. It's weird talking to someone who sort of pretty much taught you and raised you, as a child. We're talking almost eight years here, in my childhood. There's all these things I apparently said and did that I don't recall; similarly, I guess she's trying to come to grips with how much has changed, because I'm not that child anymore. In a way, it's hard, because I remember her--so much--but I don't remember much of that common ground. I don't know what to do, but it's times like this when... Well, I guess I always have a strong impulse to run away from my life. Sometimes, I think about how nice it would be to just leave; to cut all ties, to leave your old life behind, to go and see what's beyond that far horizon. And times like this, it reminds me that we wouldn't be who we are, I guess, if you cut everything away. Or that sometimes, things run too deep to be just cut off like this. Times like this, I'm glad :')
  11. Kasimir
    Not to say it's impossible though. I crunched through NaNo in five days, once. Five very intense days. Five very intense, sleep-deprived, "Did I write this or did I dream I wrote this?", "What is the real life anymore idek" days. ...Yeah, I'm not really a walking advertisement for why it's a great idea, right? But yeah, still doable, so if you want to, don't give up! Three days is really not much of a late start
  12. Kasimir
    Apologies for the double-post. Just wanted to do a bit of RP introducing the very nervous and inexperienced Sonder Kessligh Gist of it is that Sonder got lured to join the venture by being offered a position that he's a little overwhelmed by. Captain Heron’s Shardship was one of the more diverse environments in which Sonder’d worked. The port was bustling with activity: men and women handling the looming cranes that lifted stacks of cargo onto the waiting Shardship. Some other ships would’ve loaded with proper mechanical cranes; these seemed to be Awakened, bunching in a strangely organic sort of way that Sonder longed to examine closely. He’d never before gotten the chance to look at anything that hadn’t been electromechanical in nature. Here and there, he thought he noticed someone moving through the air with the distinctive gait of a Mistborn. A shiver ran down his spine. It was true then; Heron Industries was sparing no expense for this particular venture. He glanced up at the docked ship, surveying her. The proudly-stencilled words on the side declared that the ship belonged to the Heron Industries Mining Corporation. He exhaled, a long deep breath. No putting it off, Sonder thought. He’d made his choice. He slung his gear over his shoulder, nodded to himself, and headed towards the line that was beginning to form up. It took a bit of fumbling among his things, as he waited, to locate his papers and to present them to the bored-looking security officer. “Name?” “Sonder Kessligh,” he said. “I’m, uh, the Fourth Engineer.” He tried not to flinch as the man looked at his papers. The security officer glanced down at the papers and then back at his face. “Huh,” was all he said. “Well, all right, then, kid, get on board. You’re late.” Rust and ruin, Sonder thought, sighing as he nodded to the security officer and headed past him and into the Shardship. First day on the job and he was already late. He was going to be pretty rusting lucky if the Chief didn’t chew him out for it. - By the time he’d got his things put away and reported for duty, the Chief wasn’t in the engine room. Privileges of rank, Sonder supposed. He wasn’t sure whether he was supposed to feel relieved or worried. The Second was on duty though: he was checking in on the loading/unloading system, as Sonder entered. The sound of his boots on the metal grating was loud enough, even in the clamour of the engine room. Second glanced up and at him. “Oh,” he said, flatly. “You’re the new guy. You’re late.” Wasn’t it supposed to be the Shardship’s first voyage? Sonder wondered. He scuffed a boot against the flooring, and then realised he wasn’t supposed to do that, and tried to draw himself up and appear confident, if penitent. “Yeah, uh, I’m sorry, Second. There were…difficulties.” Second looked at him, long and hard. “Yeah, well,” he said. “Best get to work, kid. We’ve got a lot of things to do, and you’ve had the juniors scrambling to deal with the fact you weren’t there. Sewage’s your responsibility. Cooling too. You Hemalurgically qualified?” “Uh, well…” “Don’t matter,” Second said. He folded his arms across his chest. His gaze was flat; measuring, with a trace of hostility. “You’re not authorised to touch anything Hemalurgic. Got it?” “Awakened?” Second shook his head. “You from Nalthis?” “Uh, no…” “Then don’t touch anything that has to do with Investiture,” Second said, bluntly. “Got it?” “Understood,” Sonder muttered. “Good,” Second said. “Well, what’re you waiting for? Get to it.” He jerked his head vaguely towards the right. “Sewage’s right through there. Go.” Sonder ducked his head in acknowledgement and headed in the direction Second had indicated, promising himself he would keep his mouth firmly shut. Last thing he needed was to seem more of a fool or a rookie than he’d already appeared. The recruiter from Heron Industries had made it sound like he was doing Sonder a favour; in a way, he was. Despite his qualifications, his painful lack of experience meant that no one else would’ve taken Sonder on as a Fourth, and the looming pay-gap between Fourth and junior engineer was nothing to scoff at. They even offered a better pay package. He needed that money. Too many medical loans. Just this voyage, he told himself. He’d just make this voyage, and then he’d decide if working megacorp was where he wanted to be. Just this once. “Rustin’ new guy,” Second muttered; softly, but Sonder caught it. He swallowed and kept walking. - “You signing on for Roshar, son?” “Well, Chief, uh…” Sonder struggled for words. Finally, he said, “I don’t think I’ll be doing the Roshar run.” It happened, of course. Not everyone signed up for the same runs, but the crew’d been more or less the same for the past three runs between Scadrial and Nalthis, with the exception of Second, who’d left and signed on with Errant Ventures instead, transporting fuel. Karsten Arnkell was one of the most relaxed Chiefs Sonder’d ever known. According to Ersken, the last time they’d lost a lateral stabiliser in the midst of a highstorm on Roshar, Chief’d just shook his head, turned to the waiting engineers, and said, “Rust happens.” Perfectly calm, Ersken said, as though we were docking instead of getting slapped about by one of them highstorms. He seldom shouted, and always seemed to know what to do in an emergency. “Any reason why?” Chief asked. “You’re good, son. Think you could make a creditable Fourth with a bit more experience, and then start working your way up the food chain.” “It’s Roshar, Chief.” Sonder said. “You know. There’s uh, been a whole bunch of ships that go down in the highstorms.” He realised he was fidgeting and struggled to still his hands. “True,” Chief acknowledged, with a short nod. “There’s always risk. But that’s why we take proper safety precautions and follow procedure.” He smiled, faintly. “As much as we can, at any rate.” It was said, Sonder thought, that Chief had guts as true as steel: that he was capable of watching his own ship go down in a highstorm without any trace of fear or worry. He believed it. He said, “I like working here, Chief. But, uh, Heron Industries made a better offer. And I really need the money.” “Ah,” Chief said, quietly. For a moment, he wore a closed, shuttered expression; it was there in his eyes. “Be careful, son.” “Chief?” “You’ve made your own choices, and you’ve got your own needs and priorities,” Chief said. “I can respect that. But be careful: Heron Industries is a megacorporation. And working for a megacorp isn’t the same as working merchant.” “How so, Chief?” Chief shrugged. “More competition,” he said. “Plenty of cutthroat business. Shady contracts. Megacorps don’t care about what the unions say, son. They’ll work you like a dog for every half-boxing you earn.” “I’m not afraid of hard work, Chief.” He received a nod of respect. “I know. You’ve shown me that more than half-a-dozen times, by now. Still. Working megacorp carries lots of risks. Other corporations won’t hesitate to kidnap, to murder, to send saboteurs…” Chief shrugged, again. He looked worried, now. “It’s a whole new ballgame, son. At that level, things like a Rosharan highstorm look positively mild in comparison.” “You’ve uh, worked with them before, haven’t you, Chief?” “Once,” Chief said. “And twice. A couple of times.” He shook his head. “I prefer ordinary cargo runs. Less risk. Less worrying about when someone’s going to stab you in the back.” Sonder chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Yeah, but, Chief. I really need that pay. Besides, you, uh, made it out. Didn’t you?” Chief smiled; the worry gone. For a moment, he looked as though he were a thousand miles away, relieving some long-fled memory. “Yeah,” he said, at last. “Guess I did, son. C’mon then. I need you to make sure the auxiliary engines are all green. Can you do that?” “Got it,” Sonder said, and he began to head off. “Sonder?” It was the first time in a long while the Chief’d called him by his name. He drew up short. “Yeah?” “Good luck. And watch your back.” He made himself smile. “Yeah, Chief, you don’t need to worry about me. I’ll handle it just fine.”
  13. Kasimir
    Bort! Great to play with you again! Also, do my eyes deceive me? No beard?
  14. Kasimir
    Glad to be back, Sarge. - The engine room of a Shardship was oppressively hot, even with the ventilation systems they’d put in. After over ten years serving on different Shardships, Chief Engineer Karsten Arnkell was used to the sometimes-oppressive heat. The roar of the engines and the different systems: cooling, ventilation, electricity generation, on-board the Wolfhound was a comforting background clamour as he studied the various read-outs, making sure that things were progressing well in hand. Next to him, Ersken Herschel was on the EOT. First time Herschel was serving as Second Engineer, Karsten thought. Good man, though. He’d worked with Herschel before on the Junker, moving cargo between Scadrial and Nalthis. That had been a good run; smooth travelling. He liked good runs. “You alright there, Hersch?” “Yeah, Chief,” Ersken said, bending over the EOT. “Everything looking good. Cap’s taking her out of port.” Karsten breathed and nodded. “All right,” he said. The dream still hung over him; for some reason, he couldn’t shake it off his mind. “Chief?” “What is it?” “What happened to Sonder?” Sonder Kessligh: good kid, pretty enthusiastic, but without much experience at all. Karsten wouldn’t have let him touch any of the Hemalurgic systems on board a Shardship. Karsten shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine, Hersch. Probably signed up with a different vessel. Heard he went over to Heron Industries.” Ersken shook his head. “Crazy guy,” he said. “Working for high-profile corps like Heron’s a rusting nightmare. No one signs up to keep the engines protected twenty-four-seven from saboteurs and that sort of thing.” In the dream, he had. Karsten checked the read-outs once again, and nodded in satisfaction. Lift-off was always a volatile period, and he wasn’t going to feel better until the Shardship had cleared Scadrian planetary airspace. “Yeah, well,” he said. “Kid made his choice, didn’t he?” But he’d dreamed of it. Signing on as Chief with that rusting Heron Industries venture to mine ore in that recently-discovered sector. Keeping an eye on his people, because Captain Wurum Heron was a madman who thought that traitors among his engineers meant all of them—Chief included—should be booted out an airlock. He shook it off. It was just a dream. And Rory Aasheim was a far better Captain than Wurum Heron was. The run between Scadrial and Roshar was always dangerous because Shardships had to be careful to avoid highstorms, but if the Hemalurgic systems were running properly, they had some protection against the storms. Ships’d failed in the face of Rosharian highstorms, though. Still, for some reason, he felt good about this run. Sonder was a good kid, decent Junior Engineer. But he was none of Karsten’s concern, now. The Wolfhound and his new men were. “I guess,” Ersken said. Karsten clapped him on the shoulder. “Roshar’s always a dangerous run, if things aren’t working just right. Keep a close eye on things, understand? Less thinking about other crew.” He added, for the benefit of the cadets and junior engineers in the engine room, “Nothing to worry overmuch about, though. Wolfhound’s got a good crew, she’s in safe hands. Just do your jobs right.” Ersken exhaled, glanced about him, and nodded. “Got it.” You could see it: the moment concern faded, replaced by focus. “Good man,” Karsten said.
  15. Kasimir
    It's after my final German grammar exam (which is tomorrow), then I have a philosophy of maritime piracy paper due on the 15th Nov, a medical somewhere in between, and an exam on the 25th Nov. I won't be super-active, but I reasonably feel as though I can contribute to the game, and I would like to play. So whyever not?
  16. Kasimir
    Sonder Kessligh signing up. He's one of the many, many, many ship's engineers, and his specific task is to make sure the ship's (non-Hemalurgic) cooling and sewage systems are functioning properly. Whether he's allowed to touch the Hemalurgic systems or not is a separate question Edit: Just wanted to be first post for Wyrm's game like last time Anyway, thanks for the hammer, Traitors This means that the game now starts after my final German exam, due to this magical thing called time-zones. Sure, I have one exam and one paper due after this, but I also have much more breathing room than I did the last time--and I really wanted to play Wyrm's SS13 game. So.
  17. Kasimir
    Sorry, Maili, I have to say that Alfa figured it out too; unfortunately, he didn't share with the class. Spectators didn't think a hammer was likely to go down because of the coordination it required, but turns out the timezones were kind this time around.
  18. Kasimir
    As I was telling Wilson, Cap, gotta post this :
  19. Kasimir
    What did harmless, fluffy rabbits ever do to you?
  20. Kasimir
    And here is the end of Ani's story, long-promised. I'll need to get back to studying for a bit, but will also start working on the pieces from Kyrus and Thales that I owe, besides the newer generation of Herons. Aniketos Heron #9: Shattered Aniketos Heron #10: A Sky Full of Stars
  21. Kasimir
    Pfft, I'm trying to tame them and train up my own personal armies of Plotbunnies >> We're still training the infantry, but eventually, I'll have a navy and airforce and a bunch of ninja plotbunnies-- Wait, why is everyone backing away?
  22. Kasimir
    Not sure if trolling or serious...
  23. Kasimir
    Have more RP, to make up for the fact that my previous post had none. In fact, I'm pleased to say that I've finally finished Nax's story. Just need to wrap up Ani's, after doing a bit more work Anaximander Heron #9: Choosing Sides Anaximander Heron #10: Iron
  24. Kasimir
    Hi guys! The M'Hael and myself would like to be put down for a common MR GM slot, independent of what we've already signed up for: we're planning on co-GMing a Wheel of Time game set in the Black Tower [in addition, I'd like to request that my slot be edited slightly to reflect that I plan on running a Pirates MR. Thanks!]
  25. Kasimir
    I'm RangerofAnor on NaNoWriMo. Gotta say, I'm a tad annoyed because I had spent two weeks drawing out plans for what I was going to write about, and then got hit by a great new idea two days ago and now I'm running with the new idea and shelving the plans. Because, #YOLO, apparently. Wild waters ahead, guys. Don't know if I'm gonna make it
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